I am lonely, not lonely

the choice up to now
has been mine

I will slip away
(at will)
into the recesses
of small shops
of empty rooms
or quiet spaces

to avoid her touch
or his gaze
or their judgement
our subconscious desires.

But all swallowed up

deep in the belly
of fog, of smoke
a vast, impenetrable

night sky

suddenly the
all-encompassing fear
grips me

washes over
so suddenly

I realize
I have not lived at all

that I am
suddenly
(forcibly)
the only one left.

Down a long, winding road
that trudges on endlessly
into the fading silhouette of trees
and broken sidelines

dim headlights

I am lonely, not lonely.

The perfect boy.
Always at your side,
Comforting you as you cry.

He'd listen to your boring stories
But never would complain.

He wouldn't let your heart be broken
By ruthless "friends" and enemies,
All because he loves you.

So when you meet your perfect boy,
Dont let him leave.
For there are very few
Who will love you as he wil.

I always wanted to be pretty.
Growing up
When some other little girls wanted to be
Princesses and rock stars and doctors
I just wanted to be something worth looking at.
Maybe its because I was always awkward
And no one ever let me forget it.
My dad would never drop the fact
That I was bigger than the average Jane Doe
And as my sister got older,
She lost a lot of her baby weight
While I just put on more.
Then on TV
I always saw these plus sized girls who were gorgeous
In the ****** region
Even if they had a little extra meat on their bones.
I would analyze myself in the mirror for hours
Wondering why it seemed
I had nothing to offer the world.
Wondering why at the time when my friends were getting boyfriends
Boys were making fun of me.
Wondering why when males would bend over backwards for my peers
They would only be interested in abusing my insecure body.
I never understood
Why I got graced with the "ugly gene."
No one even tried to lie to me
And tell me I was attractive.
So I got to thinking
What else do I have to offer?
And I realized how twisted the world is
Because as a little girl
Since before I can remember
I have been told that how I look
Is more important than who I am.
And how I felt about my physical appearance
Directly influenced how I felt about my internal qualities.
I stopped fearing that I would not look good enough
And started to fear that I was not strong enough to handle
This world and all its messages.
Now, because I have grown
I have nothing to fear
But strength itself.